A Moment in Time
by Ebony Rayne
Summary: Harry Potter — the newest student at McKinley High. William Shuster — the favourite teacher of McKinley High. McKinley High — where they realized just what they'd begun.


**A/N:** To be completely honest, I have no fucking clue how I came up with this one. It popped into my mind and never left. Bastard.

**Summary:** Harry Potter — the newest student at McKinley High. William Shuster — the favourite teacher of McKinley High. McKinley High — where they realized just what they'd begun.

**Pairings (that matter):** Harry/Will, Emma/Carl, past Will/Terry, past one-sided Will/Emma (on Emma's part), brief one-sided Will/Emma (on Will's part)

**Warnings:** age-difference, and a teacher-student relationship. Also, I've seen most of the Glee episodes except the following; Season 1: 13-End, Season 2: 9-11, 17-19. I got copies from my friend and for some reason, those episodes didn't transfer over properly. So if I get any facts wrong, that's probably why.

**Timeline:** Glee: After baby-gate. Will and Terry divorced, Emma's dating sexy dentist man, Holly Holiday is yet to be introduced to the world of Glee, and that's really all that matters. I might get some things wrong thanks to the gaps in my Glee-education or my uncontrollable urge to fuck the timeline, so just go with whatever's said. P.S. How old is Mr. Shue? And how long was he and Terry married?

Harry Potter: So, cannon except for anything having to do with Ginny Weasley and romance, including the entire epilogue. Harry travelled for 2 years after defeating Voldemort. He is now 19 and has decided to go to muggle high school to escape the attention of the wizard world. Teddy is with Andromeda while Harry's in school. He'll take over caring for his godson after he's graduated.

I was originally going to try and make this multi-chaptered and filled with crude humour and cuss words and Call it "Hot for Teacher", but I find that a time-skippy one-shot is much, much easier to write, though it also eradicates almost all humour.

**Disclaimers:** I don't own Glee and I don't own Harry Potter. I don't know who does own Glee, but Harry Potter is JK Rowling's. The song used is _Very Last Moment In Time_ (not mine) by Lindsay Lohan. This is not meant to be a song-fic; I just wanted a different page-break than the usual line or gibberish symbols. I think the lyrics fit nicely, even if each lyric doesn't fit with the next section of the story. That's because I originally used a different song until I began writing another story (which originally used _Very Last Moment In Time_) until I realized both stories would work better if I switched the songs. I'm much happier this way.

**Random Fact: **Only 311 people are bitten by rats in New York in an average year, but 1,519 residents are bitten annually by other New Yorkers.

_Time stops for no one_

_And moves on unaware_

_It's easy not to notice_

_It's easy not to care_

The lights were flashing and the music boomed, but Harry couldn't bring himself to join the mass of writhing bodies on the dance floor. He wasn't even sure why he was there; he wasn't exactly the partying type.

He headed straight for the bar, presenting his fake I.D. to get a tumbler of Captain Morgan. The first glass he shot down, the next glass disappeared soon after, but the third glass he just nursed as he looked around the club he'd wandered into.

He watched covertly at the obvious former strangers molested each other to the beat of a Ke$ha song. He snuck a glance at the amorous couples in the shadowed corners and the hopeful singles too shy or too sober to really appreciate club's atmosphere. He could tell they didn't know why they were there either.

The war was over, the light had won, the world was saved, yada yada yada. The world was happy, _too _happy, too oblivious to the sacrifices that had been made to keep them safe in their little houses and their precious blinders intact.

They didn't care that his parents had given their lives for his, or that his godfather had died protecting him, or that the man he considered an uncle and his wife, a woman he considered a sister, had fought to the death to give their newborn son a safe world to live in. They didn't know that he'd died for them. They only cared that the current danger had passed and they could move on with their lives.

They didn't care what had happened for them; they only cared that it had happened. They still had their family; they didn't care that he was alone.

_Conversation circles_

_There's money changing hands_

_I've been standing in the middle_

_I've been caught up in the spin_

How did it come to this? How did he go from being madly in love to ready to collapse to almost normal to depressed all over again? How had his heart not given out from the whiplash of his moods?

First, he finds out that one of his closest friends is in love with him — and she's sweet and pretty and he really does like her, he _does_ — but he's married and he loves his wife and they're having a baby — a _baby_ — a small life he'd helped create and he wouldn't walk away from that. He couldn't.

And then that crashes down. His wife was lying about his daughter — the daughter he had never met and never seen but already loved with all he had — and was planning to take the child of Quinn Fabray, a confused, scared young woman in a group of kids he openly considered "his", and pass it off as their own in a desperate bid to hold onto him when her insecurities convinced her that he was going to leave.

His sham of a marriage ends, Emma's sham of an engagement ends, and he tries his damndest to move on. And he does, eventually, _finally_, to find out that Emma had moved on faster. He tries to be happy for her, he really, really does, because Carl's a nice guy and he's good for her and Emma really likes him and Carl so obviously adores her, but it's hard, so hard, to know that he'd waited too long.

With Terry, he had jumped too soon, with Emma he had jumped too late, but with the brooding man hunched over his glass at the end of the bar, Will just jumped.

_Out of the confusion_

_The static and the noise_

_You've got my attention_

_You make me wanna_

They didn't realize just what they'd begun when it had first happened. One had a broken spirit, the other, a broken heart, and they both just wanted a little companionship for the night. One night; it was _one night _in a million, in a lifetime, in a world where they wanted nothing more than to make a connection with another person.

They stayed in the whole day. They touched and explored and talked without talking, letting go of a different burden each time they writhed against each other and if sometimes a drop of sweat was really a tear, the other pretended not to notice. He just held on tighter, tighter, tighter, until he could stop the other's shaking and sparks exploded behind his eyes.

They parted during the light of Monday morning, Will to his job, Harry to his own apartment. There were no words and there was no awkwardness, just a touch of hands and a glance as Harry walked through the door, his coat half on and his scarf hiding the evidence of the night before. A final smile, shy and thankful, and that was the end of it. They thought.

_Live like it's the last moon rising_

_Scream just like no one's there_

_Lose all of my defences_

_Hold you, touch you, love you like it's_

_The very last moment in time_

His teacher. _His. Teacher._ Dear, sweet, merciful Merlin, he had slept with a teacher — and not even _a_ teacher, apparently, he had slept with _the_ teacher; teacher of the year, favourite among the student body, only one willing to run show choir, and second father (or third, as the case was for that one girl) to most of the Glee kids.

As if that wasn't bad enough — as if sleeping with a man he would see every day in the halls, a man his new classmates looked up to and adored, and knowing where he was ticklish, where he was hurt, where to place his hand or his mouth and _push_ to get the man to moan wasn't bad enough — Harry also discovered that it was grounds for automatic dismissal if a teacher sleeps with a student, even if the teacher doesn't have the student in any of his classes.

If anyone found out what had happened between him and Will, it wouldn't matter that Harry is 19 or that he wasn't in Spanish or Glee, Will would be fired from a job he absolutely loved, the show choir would be ruined, the outcasts of McKinley High would have no place to go anymore, the Cheerios would go back to cheering, the football players would go back to joining or ignoring the rampant bullying, and the friendships formed between jock, prep, and loser would be dissolved in no time. What a domino effect.

One mistake; it was _one mistake _in a million, in a lifetime, in a world that didn't give second chances for things like this.

Harry couldn't let that domino fall.

_It seems like I woke up _

_Beneath a different sky_

_And I'm drunk on what I'm seeing _

_Through these open eyes_

His student. His _nine. Teen. Year. Old. S-T-U-D-E-N-T._ Dear God, he was barely older than his kids. His kids…. Oh, that was one thought he needed to banish. He couldn't even _begin_ to contemplate what would happen if they found out. Half of them would mock him while the other half would ask when he turned gay, then — after explaining that he was bisexual, and after _that_, convincing Kurt that bisexual is a real thing — he would have to listen to Puck and Sam's congratulations while Santana and Brittney ask if he took any pictures and Rachel and Quinn blatantly judged him with their eyes. Then Tina would join in asking for pictures while Mercedes tried to calm down Kurt who would be pulling his bitch face because Will never told him he was bisexual. Which he should probably get around to.

As if that situation wouldn't be horrible enough, the Glee rumour mill would eventually leak into the rest of the McKinley rumour mill. Enter Sue. He would then get to have a fun conversation with Higgins, beginning with "what is the meaning of this" and ending with "clean out your desk".

Will loved teaching — it was all he knew how to do, it was all he _wanted _to do — and he would get blacklisted for the rest of his life if his weekend… activities came to light. He would have to find a new job and New Directions would have to find a new instructor, which would never happen. Heaven knows Emma would try, but she wasn't strong enough to stand against Sue.

Glee club would finally be destroyed and his kids would have no where to go. They would still hang out together, sure, and it would be a fool's dream to think that Rachel would stop singing, but they wouldn't have a place to express themselves anymore, nowhere to bond anymore, and eventually the friendships he'd worked so hard to nurture would fade.

No one could ever know.

_All the little ways you move me_

_All the places you expose_

_The illusion I held on to_

_You've got me letting go_

So they ignored each other as best they could. Harry's years of faking emotions and Will's past in the theatre allowed them to pass by each other with only the slightest reaction to the other's presence. No one suspected, not even the ever-observant Sue Sylvester.

A quiet "excuse me", a "thank you", "you're welcome"; these were the extent of their communication. Everyday, they pretended to be strangers, they tried to forget, and they failed.

Will and Harry watched the couples around them — the kissing, the hand-holding, the teenage true love, and the incredible ability to bounce back within a day of being dropped — and wished it could be that simple in the real world. The next time they passed in the halls, they shared a single glance, and that night they fell together.

_I just wanna stay here _

_Soaking up the rain_

_Falling all around me_

_Wash the world away_

In the night, in their afterglow, under the darkness of the room and soiled sheets tangling their legs together, Will's breath ghosted across Harry's cheek, and he told him he was beautiful. Harry looked up at Will, a hand on his cheek as he locked their gazes. He didn't know what to say to that — should he say thank you? should he compliment him back? should he say nothing at all? — and so he kissed down his neck, and they joined together again.

They continued to fall, over and over; the day Harry found out he'd missed Teddy's first word, the day Will ran into his ex-wife at the car lot, the day Ron asked Harry to be his best man, the day Emma gushed about the Rocky Horror Picture Show. They couldn't seem to stop — they didn't _want _to stop — they just kept coming together each and every time something happened to make them feel alone. One kiss, one touch, and the feeling of isolation retreated for another day.

_Live like it's the last moon rising_

_Scream just like no one's there_

_Lose all of my defences_

_Hold you, touch you, love you like it's_

_The very last moment in time_

It was wrong. He _knew _it was wrong. He knew he shouldn't be doing this, knew what was at stake, but he couldn't stop. Every time he felt him — every time he found a spot to make him writhe, every time he made his eyes roll back, every time he marked his skin or grabbed his hips or slid flesh against flesh — every time he had that proof that he was real, that he was there, he believed he could move on.

This man — this one man in a million, in a billion, in the world — was his lifeline, his tether to the world and his gateway to paradise.

Beautiful. So beautiful.

_kiss_

Perfect.

_bite_

His.

_Let me feel you next to me_

_Let me taste the breath you breathe_

_Open up the space between us_

Faster….

Harder….

Deeper….

More…

and more and more. Eventually, they knew everything about the other's body, and it wasn't enough to simply touch to drive away the isolation.

One night, they began to talk afterward, really talk, not the meaningless compliments they had taken to whispering to each other during or after. Will talked about the wife that betrayed him and the one that got away; Harry told about his parents and godfathers who died before he could really know them. When Will went into detail about the daughter he never had, Harry shared things about his godson and all the milestones he'd missed in his short life.

Story for story, heartbreak for heartbreak, nothing was left unsaid, no stone was left unturned.

The next time, each stroke was fire and lightning flashed behind their eyes.

_Live like it's the last moon rising_

_Scream just like no one's there_

_Lose all of my defences_

_Hold you, touch you, love you like it's_

_The very last moment in time_

Once a week became twice a week became thrice a week became almost every night. They began meeting, not because they were lonely, but because they wanted to meet, because they wanted each other.

What started out as comfort, companionship, had evolved into something more — something deeper, something they couldn't resist, and thus infinitely more dangerous.

"We have to stop this." The first words uttered between them not during or after, and it was the last thing either of them wanted to hear. "You're my student, I could get fired, and if this goes on any longer…" _I won't be able to let you go._

"Please." Harry couldn't go back to how he was before; he knew Will couldn't either.

"You know I'm right." _But you'll never admit it._

One last time; each gasp was a good bye, each thrust an apology, and each drop of sweat mixed in with a tear that neither would ever confess to shedding.

_Live like it's the last moon rising_

_(Very last moment in time)_

_Scream just like no one's there_

_(Very last moment in time)_

All the scenarios in his head and only one — the cruellest irony — prepared him for work the next day.

"William, Sue has come to me claiming that you have had an inappropriate relationship with a student," Higgins said the moment he stepped into the office.

It was just his luck that, the very day after he was able to work up the strength to end his clandestine relationship with a man young enough to be his son, he would get fired for his clandestine relationship with a man young enough to be his son. That's just perfect. _Perfect._

"I move that Shuester be fired immediately and forced to register as a sex offender," Sue demanded, a victorious look in her eye.

"William," Higgins began, ignoring Sue for the moment, "what do you have to say to these accusations?"

Unable to deny it and horrible at lying despite all his acting, Will decided to try to slightly lessen the consequences. "I say, Harry is nineteen, so I'm not a sex offender."

"Harry?" Higgins asked, and Will hoped desperately that he hadn't just assumed and admitted that for no reason. "Harry Potter?" Will nodded. "He is not a student here."

"What?" Sue spat out, her plot falling down around her.

"He transferred out just this morning," Higgins explained. "He's going to a private boys' school; Dalton Academy."

Attempting to salvage the situation, Sue pointed out, "That does not change the fact that William Shuester picked up his nineteen-year-old student in a bar and slept with him." She glared at Will. "And I _demand_ his dismissal."

_Lose all of my defences_

_(Very last moment in time)_

_Hold you, touch you, love you like it's_

"So as it turns out, Sue only knew about the first time, which happened before either of us knew you were my student, so I can't be fired for it."

The figure in front of him spoke, but didn't turn around to face him; "And now I don't go to McKinley anymore."

"No, you don't," Will agreed. They were silent. They didn't know where to go. What happened? Did they move on? Did they try again? "I'm sorry for — "

"It's ok," Harry interjected. "I understand. It was selfish of me to let you risk everything. I mean, you love your job, and you love singing, and you love your kids, and you love helping them." He turned around and smiled.

Will absorbed his words. Selfish? _Harry?_ He wasn't entirely sure the younger man knew the meaning of the word. He watched Harry continue to smile and knew where to go from there. He wasn't letting Harry go — never, ever again.

He gathered him in his arms and looked in his eyes, and he wanted to say that this was heaven, but that was clichéd and — though their position was ripped straight from every romance novel known to the world — there was nothing clichéd about what he was feeling; it was stronger than what he'd felt with Terry and deeper than what he'd felt for Emma, and he wouldn't risk it a second time, because….

"And I love you."

_I love you._

_I love you._

_I love…_

… _love…_

… _love you._

"I love you, too."

_The very last moment in time_

**A/N:** Ok — _so _mushy. It was much funnier as a multi-chapter, but I could not for the life of me figure out how that would go. Writing longer, more detailed scenes are hard as fuck, even when you know exactly what's going to happen. With me, I inevitably decide to change one tiny, tiny detail that requires me to change another tiny, tiny detail and then another and another until finally, the whole story is not what I pictured _at all_. Yay.

Does anyone else think that, once I was forced to add dialogue, the story turned crap-tastic? I hate everything after the dialogue began. I might try to go back and re-write it some day, but for now I'll focus on how much I hate it. Because I'm a masochist like that. So bite me.

Please.

Anyway, reviews are love. Spread love, not germs. And by germs, I mean AIDS. That's right, if you don't spread love by reviewing, you will be spreading AIDS. Think about that when you're trying to sleep tonight. I know I'll be thinking of how I just offended millions of people.

I have _got_ to stop watching _Tosh.O_.


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